Unmasked- Act 3- Issue 13- Epilogue
by Thedude2222
Summary: The final epilogue to the Gotham novel, Unmasked.


**Epilogue**

 **Reverie At Work**

Randolph Riggs sat handcuffed to the table in the Gotham Police Department waiting on room in a cell to open for him. Above him the security camera sparked and the little red light faded away to nothing. Alone and horrified the young man watched a black hole appear next to the door and three people stepped through unannounced. All three wore matching black suits and black ties.

The first was a beautiful woman with silver hair and a scowl. The second was a young man who looked close to Randolph's age only with darker skin. This one seemed disoriented and held himself up using the table. The third person was a little harder to describe.

"Oi mate, alroight?" the short man appeared to have the body of an anthropomorphic frog, "Me names Mistah Toad en 'um n'agent ah Rev'ry. Come tah giyah uh propah innaduction tuh Gottum 'en how she werks aroun' en about en such."

"Huh?" Randolph asked befuddled. The toad man frowned but began to speak slower but in no way clearer.

"Me name 'es Mistah Toad 'en-"

"Mr. Toad, let me try," the angry woman suggested, "My name is Iris but I used to be called Harpy. This is Mr. Toad. We work for an organization called Reverie. Our primary purpose is to keep Gotham safe. Are you aware of Gotham's past, Mr. Riggs?" Randolph nodded dumbly.

"So you are aware no one wears a costume in this city anymore?" Iris asked.

"Yes."  
"And why do you think that is?"

"I-I wasn't sure but now I think it's be-because of you," Randolph suggested.

"Well, he has some common sense," Iris said nudging Mr. Toad, "Can you speculate on why we've come to visit you?"

"Because I put on a costume," he admitted staring at the table.

"Not just any costume, Mr. Riggs. Specifically you wore a wolf mask from Halloween, a rainbow wig, and a cut up bathrobe to act as a cape. You help up two gas stations referring to yourself as…Wacky Wolf. Not the choice I would have made but different strokes I guess," she decided.

"Ah ken dig it," Mr. Toad winked at the prisoner.

"We'll be brief. Our organization Reverie employs talented people. People who…know things. See sometimes someone makes a mistake, dresses up like a fool, and gets punished. These people regret what they did and have no desire to do it again. Sometimes they're dealing with mental issues and we provide services for that. You on the other hand are not one of those people, Mr. Riggs and you're the kind we visit, the ones who plan to do it again."

"What are you, the thought police?" Randolph demanded indignantly.

"That's exactly what we are," Iris replied baring her teeth and he looked down quiet again, "Our founder believes people make mistakes and deserve a second chance but only one. When people disregard our visit accidents happen. So far in the years of our operation only four able minded people have ignored our warnings." Iris scattered black and white crime scene photos of four dead costumed people across the table. Calmly Randolph shuffled through the pictures.

"The second time someone puts a costume on they slip off a rooftop or their weapon malfunctions. They do not survive. This city along with many others does not tolerate costumed antics anymore. I'm giving you your only warning. Next time you won't see us or receive the benefit of this conversation, no negotiation, no appeals. Do I make myself clear?" Iris asked. Randolph nodded vigorously. As they prepared to leave he spoke up one last time.

"Can I ask you something?" he wondered and all three turned back to him, "Who's this guy?" He pointed at the normal looking man who hadn't said a word.

"Ees uh new hire," Mr. Toad replied, "We's inna business uh expannin, mate!" The trio disappeared through the black portal and Randolph was left to ponder his future. Behind the one way glass Commissioner Jim Gordon watched the proceedings alone. He made no move to stop the former villains or sound any alarm. He simply watched but he didn't smile.

The portal brought them back to the long abandoned Arkham Asylum where Reverie quietly ran their operations. Ariadne Pixnit just called Pix sat at the receptionist's desk in front of a phone blinking with multiple inbound calls. Casually she waved at the group while paging through a magazine called Inkers and the portal dissolved towards her returning to its place on her forearm. Since the troubles with SECURE Pix added quite a few new pieces to her body.

"At wuz uh good 'un, luv," Mr. Toad congratulated his partner.

"Harley was right. If I ask the right questions I can lead them where I want them to go," Iris announced happily, "I didn't even have to break his fingers this time. So you think you can handle this, new guy?"

"Sure," the man responded as they moved down the halls. Exchanging goodbyes Iris and Mr. Toad left him in front of the chief analyst's office and went on to their next assignment. Tentatively he knocked on the door but got no response. At his feet he noticed a rat carrying a rolled up sticky note under his paw wearing a tiny black tie around his neck. The rat knocked at the corner of the door. A small miniature door swung open and he hustled into the room.

The man knelt and looked through the hole to see a different rat preparing to close the tiny entrance. Surprised this rat squeaked and chattered to someone inside. Eventually the entire door opened and a small gangly man in a grey suit smiled broadly. Otis Flanagan rushed him in to a seat beside his desk. Papers and rats swarmed all over the room.

"You're back. What did you think about your first run? Iris didn't get too rough, did she?" Otis wondered.

"No, no, it went fine but I was wondering if I could ask you something. Those who need help or aren't all there, what happens to them?"

"Those people go to the new Wayne Mental Health Home outside Gotham. It's a wonderful place that made Arkham look like a medieval torture prison, which I guess it kind of was anyway. We don't hurt anyone who can't tell the difference between right and wrong," Otis promised.

"Who makes those kind of decisions?"

"Your friend does the one who recruited you but the final decision comes from me. I typically lean towards the side of caution. We don't make these decisions lightly after all. We're dealing in peoples' lives here."

"Is that your daughter?" he asked pointing to the pictures on Otis's desk.

"Little Judy? Yeah she's mine…just started school. It's crazy," Otis answered proudly, "I think I hear your partner coming now." Sure enough a heavy thudding of footfalls rang down the hallway stopping at the door. A swift knock sounded and the door opened to reveal the biggest man he'd ever laid eyes on.

"Ello, ello!" the giant said crushing his hand with a vigorous shake, "Da pleasure iz mine to be meeting you, friend. Ve vill be greatest team in history of company."

"This is Anatoli. You'll be working with him from here on out. He's going to take you by our intelligence officer and introduce you. The one who recruited you, the one I said was your friend though you've never technically met."

"Come zis vay, comrade," Anatoli said and they left Otis travelling farther into the asylum. The man told Anatoli about his time in prison and his eventual release. Let go on good behavior he struggled to get a job doing anything legitimate to make ends meet. One normal day he heard a voice in his head inviting him to what used to be Arkham Asylum until it was shut down after the appearance and disappearance of SECURE. Thinking he was losing his mind he travelled to the seemingly empty facility only to meet Otis ready and waiting for him.

Finally they arrived at a set of silver automatic double doors that slid open as they approached. His jaw dropped at the massive mechanical hat displayed before them. Jervis's World Hat hung above the stage in the large seat less auditorium and the diminutive, bucktoothed man bustled below it wiring different panels here and there. Dropping his tools Jervis dramatically hopped off the stage and rushed to meet them at the foot of the stairs.

"Sanjeet! Welcome!" he greeted shaking his hand, "I'm Jervis Tetch, inventor, entrepreneur, one time hobo and genius super villain known as Mad Hatter. I'm grateful you accepted our invitation. We're doing extraordinary things here."  
"Thanks. How did you talk in my head, with this?" Sanjeet asked staring up at the twenty foot tall hat. Gently he ran a hand over the cool shiny brim.

"That's correct. It's where we get the info for everyone."

"In the city?"

"In the world. I can reach everyone with this. We can pinpoint their intentions before they act and do what is necessary to protect everyone," Jervis clarified.

"That's a lot of power for one man to have," Sanjeet quipped.

"Fortunately it's not mine. Anatoli, will you run this over to Harley? It's the most recent report and she likes to see the raw data before Otis starts breaking it down."

"Of course," Anatoli agreed and excused himself.

"Back to your comment," Jervis continued, "despite what Otis may have you believe I make no decisions about what is done with the people I find. Those decisions are made above my head yet you cut right to the heart of things, don't you?" That's certainly a talent in and of itself. There's a reason I brought you specifically here but more on that later.

You wonder at the power I hold now and its negative influence. If you could only see where I came from not all that long ago. Utterly mad by my own and outside forces I wandered the streets of this gorgeous, sharp city. Otis tells me they found me staggering along a side street shouting at nothing, soiled, useless. They rode in a limousine Otis and some others and Bruce Wayne the billionaire got out.

He was wearing a full tuxedo like he was going to the ballet and he said they could help me and make me better. He said I didn't have to be alone anymore and they had a home for me. He opened a hospital that could help people like me and with medication, lots of therapy, and time I got better. Letting me use the hat was a huge show of trust but I've never let them down. You can't blame them though. Giving a mentally ill person technology that could control the entire world is a little scary but it really isn't like that.

Experiencing individuals' minds and stories can be so jarring and seemingly unrelated. It's amazing how different everyone's life is but what at first glance seems extraneous those stories become dependent within the larger context. Some may refer to them as chains that bind our lives together, Sanjeet but I believe they are the lifelines connecting us to keep us afloat.

People ask me how I feel or negative side effects this machine may be causing but I tell you I feel good! Better than any medicine, any rest, any therapy session. It's life in all its terrible, intoxicating struggles. I only wish it could go on forever."

Bruce set down the phone after listening to Harley's weekly update. For months now she prepared to expand into new cities recruiting new agents through Jervis's World Hat. From his small cramped apartment he looked out the kitchen window over the crowded dingy ghetto of Rio de Janeiro. The afternoon sun cooked and bleached the city and the wind seemed absent from the expansive metropolitan. In his bed Selina slept like the dead a thin sheet covering her flawless skin. A rotating fan blew the sweat from her shoulder blades and ruffled her dark hair gone frizzy in the saturating humidity.

After the conclusion of SECURE Bruce gave Damian the choice of what to do with their lives. Surprisingly Damian decided he wanted to become a healer like his grandfather Thomas Wayne. For years he learned field medicine from Alfred and then moved on to emergency room physicians. When Damian felt ready they moved to Brazil and opened the Jason Todd Triage Clinic in the middle of the poorest section of the city.

Local gangs became a threat to the practice but Bruce left his son to handle the issue. Damian took a very different approach than his father expected. Where Bruce might have threatened, bribed, or fought the various leaders Damian bypassed them completely. Instead of addressing those in power he made special house calls to the ones they cared for most. Regularly the young doctor visited their mothers, grandmothers, fathers, aunt, uncles and more.

Soon there wasn't anyone in the city who hadn't had some personal or tangential experience with medico branco as he came to be known, Portuguese for "white doctor". He never turned a potential patient away and never accepted any form of payment. Before long the gangs couldn't speak a single, denigrating word about the young man without receiving serious rebukes from their families. Then they began using the clinic themselves to treat gunshots or other injuries when they realized it was safe since Damian never turned them away.

The gangs began to view the office as neutral ground and some posted their own guards outside to ensure peace. It wasn't unusual to see armed rivals standing side by side outside the doors. All in all Damian's greatest resource was Alfred who chose to stay on as his assistant. Bruce had a long discussion with his trusted friend after Alfred saved his life in the hangar and refused to accept any apology for Alfred's involvement with SECURE.

Like so many other supporters of the organization Alfred only saw the positive operations and remained ignorant of the culling they performed behind the scenes. Life was very different now for Bruce without Batman. He could smile now when he saw the Brazilian girls chattering outside the clinic waiting for a glimpse of his son, the bom olhar Americano. That smile meant more to Selina than all the explanations or reasons he could produce.

He had tried to explain as she remembered nothing of her experience with SECURE. One time he tried to write it all down but whether talking or writing he realized there weren't enough words in any language to make her understand why he did what he did. There was only Damian and Jason and Dick and Tim and Cassandra and Kal and Diana and Ollie and her. For once throughout all realities there was Bruce Wayne living as Bruce Wayne, happy and satisfied by the love of his son and wife.

It should have been a terrible sacrifice to kill those who didn't relent as well as continuing the strict rules he left for Gotham and the world. More than anything he thought about Kal his truest friend and equal, about what he would say at the state of their home today. Countless nights he woke up tears in his eyes and sweat on his brow absolutely positive Kal was standing over his bed ready to come to terms but it never happened. Life continued and thankfully changed. What was once a horrifying concept became a gracious, relenting gift.

If Frost was right and nothing gold could stay then the inverse also remained true. Nothing bad would either. Now he couldn't even remember the morning it happened. Like any other day he woke and left Selina in bed to keep her odd hours. Bruce walked down the sundrenched streets toward the clinic in a city that felt so much like Gotham. He stopped at the window and saw Damian rushing around saving people in his own way.

Introspectively Bruce wondered what his rule was worth against the smile on his son's face. What cost was too much to pay for the ones he loved? Jason's words came back as the only response. The price was never too high. From that moment on Bruce was free of the only restrictions ever put on himself, the ones he created. It didn't feel like a mistake anymore and it never would again.


End file.
